


Until Then We'll Have To Muddle Through Somehow

by A_Gentle_Lurker



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Christmas fic, Gen, carols
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-25
Updated: 2012-12-25
Packaged: 2017-11-22 08:27:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,703
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/607823
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/A_Gentle_Lurker/pseuds/A_Gentle_Lurker
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Short Christmas fic.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Until Then We'll Have To Muddle Through Somehow

**Author's Note:**

> I was listening to Christmas songs on the radio. Then this fic happened.

The term ‘Grinch’ was way too kind when describing Peter Hale. Every decoration that Erica, Isaac, and Boyd had managed to bring to the recently restored Hale house were now either stuffed in the garbage, or flung out into the yard. Peter had gone through the house, meticulously gathering everything even slightly Christmas related and had gotten rid of it. The three teens had taken it as a sign that they were no longer wanted at the Hale residence and had taken refuge with Scott and Stiles. Melissa was more than happy to house the two misplaced teenage boys, and the sheriff had always had a soft spot for Erica. Stiles thought he’d always secretly wanted a daughter but was never given the chance once his mother was gone.  
So that is how eight teenagers found themselves Christmas Eve. In the house of Mrs. McCall with a delicious dinner and two adults who had become something like surrogate parents to this ragtag group of kids. As they ate and made merry, the three newest members to the werewolf world felt a bit of a loss as their alpha was not present. Scott, being unusually perceptive of these sorts of things, knew what they were feeling. Although he’d never truly accepted Derek as his alpha, he felt he was still somewhat part of the team. He had, after all, teamed up with said alpha on several occasions to help rid his town of unwanted supernatural pests.  
He nudged Stiles on the shoulder, lowering his voice as the rest of the group babbled and chattered about nothing in particular. Stiles leaned over and Scott whispered his plan to his best friend. Stiles smiled conspiratorially and caught Allison’s eye and subtly motioned for her to follow him. She excused herself and met him in the kitchen where he quickly relayed the plan. She grinned and nodded in agreement.   
As the night continued, Allison, Scott, and Stiles made their arrangements as quickly as possible. Soon everything was ready, and Scott suggested they all go for a drive.  
“Beacon Hills is awesome on Christmas Eve.” He said. “It’ll be fun driving around and seeing all the decorations.” The others agreed and piled into Stiles’ Jeep. Jackson and Lydia took the back, and Scott told them the plan while Stiles distracted the others up front with a history lesson of Beacon Hills and Christmas. Mostly it was just him telling them stories of his youth. Like when he went Christmas tree shopping with his dad and the twine broke halfway home and the tree fell off the roof of the car.  
And so they drove around, making several stops along the way. Including the supermarket where Stiles and Allison ran to the back where they kept the Christmas decorations while the others wandered aimlessly through the aisles. Boyd found a scooter, and Erica found a tricycle and thus the race was on! That is, until the fun sucking manager came over and told them off for acting like ‘a bunch of hooligans’. Boyd apologized and put the toys away while Erica made rude faces behind his back. Isaac was tempted to trip him, but held back. And Jackson rolled his eyes at them all and continued surfing his phone. Stiles texted Scott from the Jeep and told him everything was ready. Allison shoved all the bags into the trunk, including the plastic four foot Christmas tree.   
The rest of the group came out and they were off again. Stiles meandered through the town, always with their final destination in mind. If the three teens were curious at this point, they didn’t say anything. Eventually, they came to the area where Stiles could no longer pretend he wasn’t going to, and pulled into the preserve.   
“So, what’s in the trunk?” Erica asked. She was smiling, though, so Stiles and Allison smiled back.  
“I think a certain alpha may need some cheering up.” Allison said. Isaac grinned, Boyd scoffed good naturedly, and Lydia hummed lightly. Jackson rolled his eyes and continued surfing his phone. They pulled up to the Hale house and tumbled out. Allison and Stiles went to unload the trunk. Erica made her way to the porch steps but stopped halfway up. Isaac and Boyd waited behind her to see what she would do. She glanced back at the group and smiled warmly at all of them. Then without warning, she opened her mouth and began to sing.  
“God rest ye merry gentlemen, let nothing you dismay, for Jesus Christ our saviour was born on Christmas day.” She sang loud and clear, her voice was surprisingly lovely. Isaac and Boyd looked startled for a moment, but hesitantly began to sing at the look of joy on Erica’s face.  
“To save us all from Satan’s power when we were gone astray, Oh tidings of comfort and joy, comfort and joy.” Three voices blended together and the other five teens quickly gathered to lend their own. Jackson rolled his eyes but shut off his phone. They continued singing until the end, all of them surprisingly knowing the words. They exchanged warm looks and smiles, and Allison turned back to the still closed front door.  
“Hark! The Harold angels sing, glory to the newborn king.” And the rest were quick to follow.  
“Peace on Earth, and mercy mild, God and sinners reconciled.” Their rendition was a bit sloppy and left a lot to be desired, but it was loving and friendly and warm with laughter. The door opened then, and Derek watched from the doorway wearing a Christmas sweater that looked like it belonged on a forty year old obese shut-in. But on him it worked. Of course. He was not smiling. He was not smirking. He was simply watching, as one does a new sort of unthreatening entity that you’re unsure of. Stiles skipped forward and grabbed his hand, pulling him out to join in. He rolled his eyes, and Jackson laughed. Peter didn’t come out. When the song was over, Derek looked around at them, his young pack with their friends and allies.   
He surprised everyone (well, everyone except perhaps Stiles, who knew he had a soft spot in there somewhere) when he began to sing as well. “Joy to the world, the Lord is come. Let Earth receive her king.” And the rest joined in. “Let every heart prepare him room, and Heaven and Nature sing…” Most of them floundered through the second verse, but it was Derek who finished it without mistakes. Stiles grinned and wrapped an arm lovingly around his waist.   
“Thought you hated this Holiday stuff.” He said quietly. Derek kissed his temple.  
“Peter hates it.” He corrected. “His son was born on Christmas.” Stiles smile faded, but Derek was quick to comfort him. “Don’t worry. I think he may need this.”   
Lydia was next. “Well, let’s not stop there!” She said happily. Jackson grabbed her hand as she began to sing. “Angels we have heard on high, sweetly singing o’er the plains. And the mountains in reply, echoing their joyous strains.” And they all continued in loud willing voices-  
“Glo-o-o-o-o-oO-o-o-oO-o-o-o-O-o-oria!” No one knew the next words, but it was alright because Jackson began loudly with-   
“We wish you a Merry Christmas, we wish you a Merry Christmas…” And on it went until they exhausted all the carols they knew. By that time, they had brought the decorations into the house, and were stringing the ornaments onto the tree. Allison followed after Scott as he went to get the star for the tree. She gathered a snowball and tossed it at him, hitting him in the shoulder. It was a mistake. Scott retaliated with a bigger snowball, and there was no way that Lydia and Erica would let their girl face off with a werewolf in a snowball fight alone. Soon it was all out mayhem. The shrieks and giggles from the fight could be heard all around, echoing off the hills and through the woods. Derek leaned against the porch and watched.  
Stiles got in a few good shots at Jackson, and teamed up with Lydia to take down the rest of them. No one was the least bit surprised when it actually worked. Their strategy was foolproof. As the teens brushed themselves off and the couples shared kisses, Stiles walked up the porch to Derek.  
“Don’t even think about it.” He said grimly. But Stiles never listened. He brought the snowball he held behind his back up and lightly ground it into Derek’s hair. The flakes fell onto his shoulder and glittered for a second before dissolving. He shook his head and Stiles leaned up to whisper “Merry Christmas sourwolf.” It was a barely-there brush of lips and all the feelings of two people completely in it forever. Derek’s eyes flashed open and his slow spreading grin momentarily confused Stiles. He looked around, and noticed the werewolves cocking their ears toward the house. He looked inside, and then heard it as well. It was quiet, almost too quiet to hear.   
“He hasn’t played since…well since the fire.” Derek whispered. Stiles smiled then, and they all slowly made their way inside. The baby grand piano was in the living room. Peter sat at it, fingers brushing across the keys as the melody played lightly and beautifully. Erica was the first over, and she reached out, hesitant, but more courageous than perhaps any of them, and rested her hand on Peter’s shoulder. He didn’t pull away, or even flinch. She hummed along for a few notes, and began to sing.  
“Have yourself a Merry little Christmas. Let your heart be light. Next year all our troubles will be out of sight.” It was gradual, but the rest joined in, Derek singing low and his gaze slowly going to the window where he watched the snow falling lightly. “Have yourself a Merry little Christmas, make the Yuletide gay, next year all our troubles will be miles away…”  
And so that’s where eight teenagers, a healing nephew, and a still broken uncle found themselves on Christmas Eve. It was family and friends and pain and hurt and still so much cold. But it was slowly getting warmer.


End file.
